t would make _that_ approach
pretty unsafe, wouldn't it?"

"My God!" moaned the Judge; "you talk like a man bereft of his senses!"

"Or like a man who is determined not to be robbed of his rights," added
Trevison. "Well, come along. We won't dwell on such things if they depress
you."

He took the Judge's arm and escorted him. They circled the broad stone
ledge. It ran in wide, irregular sweeps in the general outline of a huge
circle, surrounded by the dust-covered slopes melting into the plains, so
vast that the eye ached in an effort to comprehend them. Miles away they
could see smoke befouling the blue of the sky. The Judge knew the smoke
came from Manti, and he wondered if Corrigan were wondering over his
disappearance. He mentioned that to Trevison, and the latter grinned
faintly at him.

"I forgot to mention that to you. It was all arranged last night. Clay
Levins went to Dry Bottom on a night train. He took with him a letter,
which he was to mail at Dry Bottom, explaining your absence to Corrigan.
Needless to say, your signature was forged. But I did so good a job that
Corrigan will not suspect. Corrigan will get the letter by tonight. It
says that you are going to take a long rest."

The Judge gasped and looked quickly at Trevison. The young man's face was
wreathed in a significant grin.

"In the first analysis, this looks like a rather strange proceeding," said
Trevison. "But if you get deeper into it you see its logic. You know where
the original record is. I want it. I mean to have it. One life--a dozen
lives--won't stop me. Oh, well, we won't talk about it if you're going to
shudder that way."

He led the Judge up a flimsy, rotted ladder to a flat roof, forcing him to
look into a chamber where vermin fled at their appearance. Then through
numerous passages, low, narrow, reeking with a musty odor that nauseated
the Judge; on narrow ledges where they had to hug the walls to keep from
falling, and then into an open court with a stone floor, stained dark, in
the center a huge oblong block of stone, surmounting a pyramid, appalling
in its somber suggestiveness.

"The sacrificial altar," said Trevison, grimly. "These stains here,
are--"

He stopped, for the Judge had turned his back.

Trevison led him away. He had to help him down the ladder each time they
descended, and when they reached the chamber from which they had started
the Judge was white and shaking.

Trevison pushed him inside and silently